


penny for your thoughts?

by delta_trevino



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change, Slow Burn, how they fall for each other through the years and how the world responds, multiverse theories and banter to the max
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 21:15:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29598864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delta_trevino/pseuds/delta_trevino
Summary: The world was crumbling and remaking itself and no one noticed. Except for Oikawa, and the boy kissing him.Or, a narrative of Oikawa and Iwaizumi's lives. Charts from childhood through high school to adulthood, roughly canon compliant with added slow, slow romance.(Censored version available on Wattpadhere)Updates every weekend.
Relationships: Hanamaki Takahiro/Matsukawa Issei (minor), Iwaizumi Hajime/OC, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Oikawa Tooru/Oc
Kudos: 4





	1. prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An introduction to Oikawa and Iwaizumi as kids and their races.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> allow me to introduce the bane of my existence.

_Age: 5_

“Iwa-chan, wait!” Oikawa Tooru jumped on his best friend, Iwaizumi Hajime and they crashed into the dry summer field.

“Oikawa, get off me.” Iwaizumi pushed Oikawa off and stood up, brushing dirt from his elbow. Their moms watched as they walked down the concrete track behind them.

“Tooru loves Hajime like no one else,” Oikawa’s mom, Ruri said, watching Oikawa throw his arms around Iwaizumi’s ankle and yank him to the ground. “He really smiles around him.” 

“Hajime isn’t going to ever say it, but I’m sure he feels the same way. Whenever we come back from the grocery store he stops in front of your house. I think he’s hoping Tooru will come out and play.” Iwaizumi’s mom laughed. She and Ruri were old high school friends, and happy their sons were close friends, even at six.

"Stop moving Iwa-chan, that's ticklish!" Oikawa couldn’t stop laughing at his best friend’s head being jostled around on his chest and the more he laughed, the worse it got.

"Stop moving, ‘Kawa!" Iwaizumi called out. Oikawa held his breath, puffing out his chest and stilling instantly. Startled, Iwaizumi looked up. Oikawa gasped at bewildered Iwaizumi, his mindless laughter resuming again. 

Iwaizumi sat up and rubbed his eyes. Oikawa stopped laughing, smiling carefreely as he studied the clouds. 

"That cloud looks like a volleyball." Oikawa pointed straight up. He shaded his eyes from the sun, watching the wisps of clouds travel across the brilliant blue. 

"No, it doesn't," Iwaizumi said doubtfully. 

"Yes, it does. It's got stripes and everything.”

“Maybe in another world, Blindkawa.” Iwaizumi had taken to adding new words to the beginning of Oikawa’s name. 

“Hey!” Oikawa pouted. It was unfair that Iwaizumi could attach all the bad words to his name. “Meanie.”

“Trashykawa.” Iwaizumi flexed another name.

“Iwaaa!” Oikawa crossed his arms. Iwaizumi laughed.

“Hajime! Tooru!” Iwaizumi’s mom called out to them. “It’s time to go.”

“Race ya.” Oikawa took off in a burst of speed, knowing Iwaizumi wasn’t far behind. He pumped his arms and extended his legs further as fast as he could, urging himself to be one step in front of Iwaizumi. The other boy grinned as he exhilarated, jumping onto the track and leaving Oikawa a few paces behind.

A glint caught Oikawa’s eyes. “Iwa-chan!” Oikawa called from behind, bending down to scoop up a lost coin. Iwaizumi turned around, also catching his breath.

“What, Slowkawa?” Oikawa tossed the coin small through the air, and without thinking, Iwaizumi darted towards it. He caught it in one fist. Bent on the top right corner, and a little rusty. 

“I saw this is in an English movie. Penny for your thoughts?” Oikawa grinned, so proud of himself for remembering that.

“I’m thinking about how dumb you are.” Iwaizumi tossed it back. “What’s a penny?”

“American money I think. Well, I’m thinking about the cloud and how you said it wasn’t volleyball shaped. Liar.”

“Oh good one. Liarkawa,” Iwaizumi noted, laughing.

“NO.” Oikawa stamped his foot a little.

“YES.”

Oikawa studied the coin. The rust was red, almost brown, and from the year 1993. Worth 5 yen. 

He briefly wondered if he could rub away the design. Maybe he could spend it on ice cream. Or a popsicle. Would it be enough for him and Iwa-chan? He shrugged, pocketing the coin.

“Let’s finish the race.” Iwaizumi took off. Oikawa grinned to himself, struggling to keep up and gasp air at the same time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a labour of love, with lots of rewriting and suffering and projecting onto fictional characters
> 
> i started writing this in june 2020. my writing style has greatly fluctuated and changed so bare with me as i edit.
> 
> heaps and heaps of love!
> 
> delta
> 
> [carrd!!](https://deltatrevino.carrd.co/) with tumblr and such


	2. ii - "you’re in love when you want to give someone the entire world, even if you can’t have it."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re in love when you want to give someone the entire world, even if you can’t have it,” he said dramatically, fake swooning.
> 
> Iwaizumi sighed. “And when did you become so wise?”
> 
> “Since I saw an American celebrity interview. My mom said it was true. But the interview also said ladies don't like wearing 10-inch heels but they were all wearing them so I don’t know.”
> 
> Iwaizumi shook his head at Oikawa.
> 
> “Then you probably like someone if you want to share the world with them or something,” Oikawa thought out loud. Although sharing outer space would be way cooler. 
> 
> “Hajime has a crushhhh,” Oikawa started again.
> 
> “Stupidkawa. Shut up or I won’t walk home with you today.” Empty threat. Oikawa could count the days they hadn’t walked home together from school on a single hand.
> 
> Or, Oikawa and Iwaizumi throughout junior high.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *cackles* 
> 
> [spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0rMgNuoHN9dyew4vMAh5eP?si=GMiE4QXxQBC-KHAEUNycSA) for this fic
> 
> scales of intensity: 
> 
> angst: 3/10  
> fluff: 6.5/10  
> lemon: 1/10
> 
> tw: blood, light light violence and mentions of: death, torture, implied pain
> 
> \--- indicates a pov switch in between oikawa or iwaizumi
> 
> happy reading!!

_ Age: 12 _

“Oikawa-kun, are you playing in the volleyball game after school?” Oikawa smiled at his classmate, a petite girl, and nodded. Kitagawa First was about to play an exhibition game.

“I hope so.” Despite being a first-year, Oikawa was regularly switched onto the starting lineup for Kitagawa’s volleyball team.

“Sato and I are coming after school to watch you guys.” The girl blushed a little. Oikawa shuffled through his brain, trying to remember the girl’s name. Mirachi? No. Mirayi. Yes, Mirayi. She was also in his science class. Really smart, kind of quiet.

“Make sure to cheer us on,” he requested.

“Of course. And make sure you win.” She smiled, holding out her hands in a peace sign. “Victory!” 

Oikawa flashed one back, echoing her words. “Victory!” Iwaizumi appeared in the doorway, already looking annoyed. So grumpy. 

“Well, I’ve gotta go now, but I'll see you soon.” Oikawa picked up his bags, smiling at Mirayi.

The girl nodded. “Do your best!” She bounded away to her friend, braids swinging behind her. Her friend, Sato presumably, started animatedly talking to her.

Oikawa reached Iwaizumi, sighing. His shoulders drooped. “I’m tired, Iwa-chan.”

Iwaizumi ignored him, walking faster towards the gym. “And we’re going to be late if you don’t hurry up, Slowkawa.” 

Oikawa sighed dramatically.

“It’s your fault for talking to every single girl who says hi.”

“But I don't want to ignore them!” Oikawa protested. “That would be rude.”

At that point, another girl waved towards him from across the hall. Oikawa waved back, a momentary smile blooming on his face.

“You’re such a sucker for attention.”

Oikawa stuck his tongue out. “Maybe you’re just jealous.”

“Nah.” Iwaizumi shook his head. Oikawa was surprised he wasn’t being punched right now. Once he’d said Iwaizumi was weaker than him and had been destroyed in volleyball the next day. Black eye and all. Oikawa shivered at the memory.

“So. Who is it?” Oikawa elbowed him, finished his deduction.

“Huh?” 

“Who’s the girl you like then?” Oikawa grinned. Iwaizumi scowled, unsuccessfully trying to keep a smile off his face. Oikawa laughed. When Iwaizumi remained quiet, Oikawa realized there was seriously a girl.

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO,” Oikawa said obnoxiously, drawing the attention of students around him.

“Shut up.” Iwaizumi shoved him. 

“Hajime likes someone,” Oikawa said in a sing-songy voice. “Hajime’s in loveeeeeee.”

“Shut up.” Iwaizumi shoved him harder. Oikawa stumbled into a locker with a smile still on his face. “I don’t know if I like her yet.”

“Well, how do you know if you do?”

“Your questions are stupid.”

Oikawa thought for a second, ignoring the glare from Iwaizumi. In a stroke of genius, he remembered something. “You’re in love when you want to give someone the entire world, even if you can’t have it,” he said dramatically, fake swooning.

Iwaizumi sighed. “And when did you become so wise?”

“Since I saw an American celebrity interview. My mom said it was true. But the interview also said ladies don't like wearing 10-inch heels but they were all wearing them so I don’t know.”

Iwaizumi shook his head at Oikawa.

“Then you probably like someone if you want to share the world with them or something,” Oikawa thought out loud. Although sharing outer space would be way cooler. 

“Hajime has a crushhhh,” Oikawa started again.

“Stupidkawa. Shut up or I won’t walk home with you today.” Empty threat. Oikawa could count the days they hadn’t walked home together from school on a single hand.

“Rude.” Oikawa shut up. He ran through girls in his head, narrowing down the possible suspects to a handful when they got to the gym.

“Sorry for being late!” The two bowed to the team.

“Oikawa! Iwaizumi! Hurry up and change. Sanoshii First will be here in 10 minutes. Oikawa-kun, you’re on the starting lineup today.”

“Yes Coach!” Oikawa grinned. 

“Proud of me Iwa-chan? I’m on the starting lineup today.” 

“No.” Iwaizumi smacked him. “You’re still the reason why we’re late.”

Oikawa held the ball out for a serve. He measured its weight in his palm, judging the gravity and the force he needed. The gym was quiet, all waiting for the serve. 23 – 24, Kitagawa First in the third set. 

He threw it up a little, making sure to use proper form, and slammed his hand into it. The ball sped into the left back corner. Oikawa was close to mastering overhand serves. After he got those down pat, jump serves were next. And those were unstoppable.

“Nice serve!” 

Oikawa noted that his serve broke Sanoshii’s formation, and the setter ran closer to the back to make up for space. Tricky spot, so the ball would traditionally go to the ace. No, the setter’s glance at the left made it look like he was setting up for a back toss. 

“Feint!” Oikawa yelled, rushing to the front. He called it right. The glance had been supposed to deter them. It had been too pointed.

“Nice call!” Oikawa got the ball in the air. And nicely back to their captain, Akihiro. 

“Left!” Akihiro set it to the left, who wound up. His form was a little cleaner than Iwaizumi’s, Oikawa noticed. The ball rushed past the defence and slammed it down across the court. 

Oikawa stood up, Akihiro offering Oikawa his hand. They were both smiling. “Good call.”

“Thank you.” Oikawa wiped his forehead. The fact the setter from Sanoshii had the guts to feint at the end impressed him; no one did that in such a high-risk situation. Oikawa was going to be able to do that one day, and win.

Oikawa headed towards the bench after handshakes with Sanoshii, Iwaizumi walking beside him. 

“Nice save.” Iwaizumi hit him on the back.

“Ow.” Oikawa drank from his water bottle. “Can we practice longer?” 

“Huh? Sure.” Iwaizumi surveyed the stands. He was looking for someone. The girl maybe? Oikawa followed his friend's eyes excitedly, falling on a group of girls on the left. He recognized Mirayi and Sato in the mix, talking and laughing.

“So you like her?” Oikawa teased. He had no idea who it was.

“Who?”

“Sato-chan?” he guessed.

“How’d you know?” Iwaizumi looked dumbfounded. Surprised. Oikawa felt a thrill go through him. Lucky guess. He wouldn’t have suspected Sato at all. She was a little spastic and dramatic.

“I have mind-reading powers,” Oikawa said smugly. 

“Dumbkawa.” Iwaizumi shoved his head roughly. 

“Let’s go say hi!” Oikawa pulled Iwaizumi over by the wrist. Iwaizumi grudgingly followed.

“Thank you very much for coming to cheer us on!” Oikawa and Iwaizumi bowed slightly. Oikawa met each of their eyes, noting Sato was staring at Iwaizumi. He smirked at Iwaizumi, who kicked the back of his shin. 

The girls came down from the stands, recounting the game and Oikawa’s save at the end. 

Iwaizumi was stumbling over his words, Sato laughing. Iwaizumi seemed to be trying to tell a story, one related to volleyball, but he couldn’t seem to talk. Luckily, Sato grinned, nudging him and finishing the end of his sentences. She insulted him once, dissolving into laughter as Iwaizumi blushed. Oikawa liked her instantly. 

“Oikawa-kun?” He realized he had been distracted.

“Oh sorry Mirayi-chan, what’s up?” Oikawa held a dramatic conversation with Mirayi and the other girls. Practice could wait for a bit.

Oikawa collapsed on his bed. He and Iwaizumi had stayed a lot longer to practice after the girls had left. Rejected homework lay scattered on his desk and a fan whirled around noisily. A bunch of papers with notes on them laid on his nightstand. Oikawa’s wet hair from a shower dripped onto his pillow and pyjamas as the setter relived the earlier game in his head. 

A fist rasped against his window followed by a muffled voice outside complaining. Oikawa grinned, sitting up straight away. The clock read 8:43. A little early, as always. Oikawa opened the window, Iwaizumi climbing in. 

“Finally.” Oikawa pressed his hands onto his hips. 

“Sorry. My mom wanted me to finish my math homework first.” Iwaizumi’s blue pyjamas blended in with Oikawa’s wall. He shuffled through the notes on Oikawa’s desk, frowning at the last one. 

“Didn’t we decide Captain Hook was supposed to murder the crew at the end?” Iwaizumi examined the drawing of their pirate ship, labelled  _ #31.  _ The 31st world. Oikawa and Iwaizumi had been making up worlds since forever, each and every one based on what could happen if they were on a pirate ship. Multiverses had endless, crazy scenarios. 

“No, that’s supposed to happen in world 34. In 31 he gets eaten by the stork and then the stork dies because he’s like toxin and then his toxin takes over the brain of Smee and Smee kills the crew.”

“Right.” Iwaizumi sat down on Oikawa’s comforter, spreading out the sheets of paper. “Can I draw 32? The anti-gravity one?”

“Sure.” Oikawa opened his drawer, filled with their finished worlds and empty sheets of paper. He grabbed two dull pencils and threw them at Iwaizumi. “I’m doing world 100.”

“No.” Iwaizumi sketched out the basis of a pirate ship. “We’re going in order.”

“But I want to do one where everyone falls in love and I feel like that should be the end,” Oikawa pointed out. “You and Sato-chan have inspired me.”

“Ew. Gross.” Iwaizumi didn’t look up from his paper.

“You’re gross.”

“Grosskawa.”

“Can I do world 33 then? Where they end up dying from poison release by the crocodile’s farts and collapse after long and painful torture? OH! And hallucinations.” Oikawa jumped into his bed next to Iwaizumi.

“Yes. Less gross.”

Oikawa stuck out his tongue, finishing the edge of the cloud. It needed to look dangerous. He dismissed the idea of putting fangs or spikes on it. Instead, he settled for repeatedly stabbing the pencil around it. 

“Tooru! Oh—hi Hajime!” Oikawa’s mom came in. She wasn’t surprised at the boy’s appearance. It was rare she didn’t find Oikawa missing and at Iwaizumi’s, or Iwaizumi here.

“It’s late. You both need to sleep even though it’s Friday. Finish your worlds quickly or leave them for tomorrow,” she said. “Okay?”

“Okay, Mom. We’ll sleep soon.” Oikawa was still concentrating on stabbing the pencil. The lead broke. Iwaizumi handed him the sharpener.

“Thank you Ruri-san,” Iwaizumi said to Oikawa’s mom. They called each other’s parents by first names ever since Oikawa could remember. “My mom says hello too.”

“Oh tell her hi too! And that she should come by soon, there’s a new recipe I’d like to show her.” Ruri smiled. Iwaizumi nodded.

Oikawa stretched, collapsing back onto his bed. He held up his masterpiece of a drawing. For the hallucinations, he had drawn bubbles outside of their heads and the hallucinations in there. A beach with sharks or an alien abduction or a pink guillotine. He nodded, satisfied and turned to Iwaizumi

“Are you almost done?” Iwaizumi was still tackling his drawing, concentrated.

“Almost.”

Oikawa sat up, gathering their old drawings and adding his to the back after printing a large 33 in the top corner. He collapsed on the bed again, dropping his head near Iwaizumi's drawing. It was good. Pirates fighting in the air and floating sails and maps. 

“Put clouds around the bottom,” Oikawa said. “So it’s in the sky.”

Iwaizumi wordlessly drew clouds around the bottom, shading them a little. Not too shabby, but not, per se, talented. His strokes were deft and simple whereas Oikawa’s were sketchy and abundant. 

“Finished!” Iwaizumi stood up. He opened Oikawa’s drawer, and with finality, put his drawing in and closed it shut.

“Good job.” Oikawa adjusted himself so he was lying normally in his bed. Iwaizumi jumped onto the bed, smacking Oikawa with his arm and his hair falling into Oikawa’s mouth. Oikawa sputtered, slapping Iwaizumi’s arm away. 

Iwaizumi was restless today. He kept shifting and turning around, hitting Oikawa with his knee, his elbow, his head once. Oikawa sighed, but he didn’t complain. Iwaizumi would end up hitting him even more then. Intentionally. 

“Hey Iwa-chan,” Oikawa whispered. His friend looked like he was sleeping, but Oikawa knew better. Iwaizumi’s face was half-buried under a blanket and his hair was falling over his eyes.

“Iwa-chan.” 

“Iwa-chan.”

“Hajime.”

“WHAT,” Iwaizumi demanded. “I was finally comfortable.”

“So mean.” Oikawa rolled his eyes. “What do you think we’re doing in another world?”

“We’re probably dead,” Iwaizumi mumbled, his eyes still closed. 

“And in another?”

“You’re dead.”

“And another?”

“I’m dead.”

“Another?”

“Everyone is dead.”

“Are we dead in all of them?” 

“Maybe. Not world 1.” World one was the first world they had even created. They ended up being the captains of the ship and playing sword volleyball.

“What about world gazillion?”

“I don’t know.” Iwaizumi was tired, Oikawa could tell. He was slurring his words a little.

“Maybe we’re being abducted. Or became ninjas. Or professional volleyball players. Or police officers but not the kind who give out speeding tickets because those are the lame ones. Or skydivers. Maybe we’re birds in world gazillion. Or chefs, but you only cook shrimp and I only cook pizza,” Oikawa contemplated.

“Hey! Pizza is way cooler than shrimp.”

“Or maybe we lost a sword fight and had to walk the plank. Maybe we stab each other over beer. Maybe we become piranhas.”

Oikawa realized Iwaizumi’s breathing had stilled. He was sleeping. Oikawa rambled on, his voice fading as he fell asleep too. 

“Maybe we are prisoners because you tried to steal a map. Maybe I fell on my face and lost an eye. Maybe we find a hidden treasure. Maybe we get married. That would be fun. The cake. Maybe we start making new worlds with magic and adventure and pizza and volleyball and spaceships...and happiness...and crocodiles...and...pizza...and lots...of sword fights...”

“Hajime-kun.” Sato came up to Oikawa and Iwaizumi in the hallway next Monday after school. Iwaizumi turned around to see Sato, blushing at the use of his first name and standing up a little straighter. 

“Hi, Sato-chan. Or, um, hi Haruka-chan,” Iwaizumi stumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. Oikawa was surprised. First names already?

“Want to go for a walk? It’ll be short.” Sato smiled. “I need to talk to you.”

Iwaizumi glanced at Oikawa, hesitation in his eyes. Trusting his judgement. Oikawa nodded in reassurance, and pushed him slightly towards Sato.

“I’ll tell Coach and Captain you’re talking to a teacher.” Oikawa turned around after grinning at Iwaizumi. 

Iwaizumi walked in late to practice, smiling to himself about twenty minutes later. Oikawa sprinted over from the net, excited. 

“What happened?” Oikawa asked eagerly. 

“She asked me to go out with her.”

“Well, did you say yes?” Oikawa had been asked out more than a few times but he always said no nicely. Volleyball was enough and more for him. In between crafting worlds and trying to perfect his overhand serve, dating wasn’t a priority.

“Yeah.” Iwaizumi blushed. That was rare, to see his best friend so flushed. 

“OOOOOOOOOOO.” Oikawa jumped up.

Iwaizumi smacked Oikawa on the head. “Shut up, Trashykawa,” he said through his teeth.

“Hajime has a dateeeeeee.” 

“Oikawa!” Iwaizumi shoved him onto a bench. Oikawa stumbled, still laughing. 

“Iwaizumi-kun, Oikawa-kun! Get back to practice,” Akihiro called them out. He chucked a volleyball at them. Iwaizumi dug it with room to spare and Oikawa tossed it up grandly. He caught it again, seeing they were nowhere close to the net.

“Yes, Captain!” They bowed a little, Oikawa trying to stifle his laughter. “I’m sorry for being late!” Iwaizumi added on.

Akihiro nodded in acknowledgement and motioned for them to start warming up. Oikawa walked with a spring in his step towards the court, giddy about his friend’s date. Ha. Crazy. Now he could tease Iwaizumi endlessly. 

“Hey Oikawa-kun,” Akihiro called towards him after practice, practicing powerful jump serves on the other side of the net. “Come here for a second.”

Practice had been simple today, mostly just four-on-fours. He and Iwaizumi now fell into sync more days than they didn’t. Sweat dripped down Oikawa’s neck and he locked his fingers together behind his head, forming a headrest. His neck felt weird from staring at the ceiling during all the sets today.

“Yes Captain?”

“I noticed you’re working on your serves.” Oikawa nodded. “Try to move your legs a split-second faster than your arms. It lets you pull back and hit the ball with more force and accuracy.”

Oikawa nodded. Akihiro was the best server on the team. Overhand and jump serves. He demonstrated the technique a few times before making contact with the ball. Oikawa diligently took in everything Akihiro said and studied his form. His arms seemed to elongate before hitting the ball that slammed down into the floor like a grenade.

“Try it,” Akihiro instructed. Oikawa nodded, picking up a ball from the cart. He tried getting his legs in front of him, just a little, then snapped his wrist forward faster.

“That’s good. Keep practicing and you’ll get a basic jump serve down by next year.” Akihiro advised. He smiled and turned around to some teammates.

Oikawa grinned. Most first years didn’t dream of trying a jump serve just yet. But he wanted to master then. Oikawa grabbed another ball, concentrating on his form. Again and again. Practicing and practicing.

The gym had been cleared out, only him and a few third years left in the brightly lit gym. The cart dragging behind him, Oikawa dutifully gathered his served volleyballs. Sometimes he and Iwaizumi would race to see who could pick up the most. 

Conversation from outside caught his attention. Probably Iwaizumi. Oikawa hurriedly rolled the cart of volleyballs into the storage room and grabbed his bag. He said goodbye to the third years and speeded over outside. 

“Iwa-chan, sorry I’m late, I lost track of time and you should have yelled at me or something.” Oikawa hopped over the sidewalk cracks.

“Oh hi, Oikawa-kun!” It was not Iwaizumi. It was Mirayi and another one of her friends. “Iwaizumi-kun asked me to tell you that he’s walking home with Sato-chan today.”

Oikawa felt a pang in his chest. The deepest betrayal. He sighed dramatically. “Okay.” He slumped down the outside stairs, only perking up once he realized how pitiful he must look. “Thank you for telling me.”

He smiled at Mirayi and turned around, running home. 

8:45. Iwaizumi was on time today. Oikawa waited for a second, unsure.

“Open the window, Trashykawa. I can see you.” Iwaizumi rapped on the window again.

Oikawa sulked as he flipped the lock and opened the window. Iwaizumi fell in, rolling once onto Oikawa’s floor. The fan whirled, Oikawa standing over Iwaizumi, who sighed.

“Sorry about after school. Haruka-chan and I were having a really good conversation about the ocean and I didn’t realize we weren’t on school grounds until I was almost home. I called Mirayi-chan, did she tell you?”

“Yeah.”

“Whatttt.” Iwaizumi rolled over, his face turned down into the floor.

“Don’t leave me, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa whined. He kicked a foot out.

“That’s unrealistic, Trashykawa. And you know there will be days where we are not going to walk home together, y’know,” Iwaizumi said into the floor. His words were mushed into the small rug.

“Why?” Oikawa whined, knowing he was being totally unrealistic.

“Because I’m not going to wait for you every single day of our lives.” Oikawa kicked the floor again.

“Why?”

“Well, we’re not getting married.”

“Why?”

“What? Are you going to propose?”

“Are you?”

“Oh shut up, Trashykawa.” Iwaizumi kept his face on the floor. Oikawa sulked, falling into his desk chair. He picked up the coin on his windowsill. 

It had been sitting here since that day at the park when they were kids. When he and Iwaizumi had their first big fight, the no-talking-for-days kind, Oikawa had reached for it. Just a reminder of Iwaizumi. He had later taken it to Iwaizumi and threw it at him, asking to trade the penny for his thoughts, and Iwaizumi had finally talked to him again. Whenever they fought, it became a habit for Oikawa to pick it up. Rub his fingers over the edges reflexively and fidget with it. 

Iwaizumi sat up, rubbing his eyes. “I propose we draw world 34.”

Oikawa stayed silent. He pushed out his lower lip. “You’re not getting out of it that easily. Tell me about your date.”

“We just walked home! It wasn’t a date.” Iwaizumi pulled out their drawings, stacking them on Oikawa's bed and taking out two empty sheets. “Uh, good. It went good.”

“TELL ME MORE IWA-CHAN.” Oikawa flopped onto his bed, accidentally kicking Iwaizumi's leg, who groaned.

But then Iwaizumi picked himself up and smiled that familiar smile, launching into a recount of the conversation with Sato in detail. Oikawa nodded, intrigued that just talking about someone could make Iwaizumi so excited and animated.

Their first fight had been over a toy when they were six. A small plush dog Iwaizumi had won at a kids carnival and handed it to Oikawa, since he already had one. Oikawa had wanted to name the dog “Spots” but Iwaizumi had argued “Lava” was way cooler. Their moms had found a compromise, calling the dog “Lava spots”. Fricking genius, moms are. 

Second fight was physical. Oikawa had shoved Iwaizumi too hard and they ended up wrestling for keeps on the school field. Iwaizumi had come home with a black eye.

They bickered constantly over the better flavour of ice cream, how long to stay on the swings, who won every race. And then, as they got older, what the worlds should be about, the best superhero, worst subject in school and how long to stay for extra volleyball practice. That mostly ended in Iwaizumi grabbing Oikawa and shoving him out the door, right before he collapsed from overworking himself. 

Banter and misunderstandings were woven into their relationship, just like any. Oikawa’s tendencies and Iwaizumi’s brute force clashed incessantly, but they also understood each other stupidly well. A non-verbal understanding that came from knowing each other exponentially better than they knew themselves.

Turned out, Oikawa didn’t need to worry too much. After a few cute dates and laughs, Sato and Iwaizumi broke up. Just didn’t work out at the time. Oikawa had bought Iwaizumi a pint of ice cream and they had immersed themselves in worlds 46 and 47, both really intricate and focused on superhero schools, for days. Iwaizumi had talked less, so Oikawa had talked more to make up for the silence.

Iwaizumi did the same thing for Oikawa after he went through seven girlfriends in the second year of junior high, thinking each one was going to be his wife and never lasting more than two months. Iwaizumi warned him every time, and every time Oikawa swore it would be different. 

Third year, things seemed to change. Oikawa met a girl, and had been going steady for about five months besides the casual disagreement. Iwaizumi was the ace for Kitagawa, both of them working hard not to be upstaged by the new first year prodigy, Kageyama Tobio. 

“Hey Oikawa.” Iwaizumi looked up absentmindedly. They were sitting on the deteriorating roof shingles of Iwaizumi’s garage, which was connected to his house. Iwaizumi’s window led onto the roof, where they could lean against the brick wall making up the exterior of his bedroom. Oikawa’s led onto the back of his house’s extension.

“Yeah?” Oikawa watched the dark clouds ripple and shift in the sky.

“Well, okay, I was thinking. Most of our other worlds are centred around a pirate ship, right?” Iwaizumi contemplated. Although they rarely drew their worlds anymore, on around 87 and 88, they still humoured the idea.

“That’s what we’ve had.”

“And they were like all versions of world 1. What if this is world one? Or we’re in a world that’s world two of three? Or world gazillion? I mean, the worlds are different versions of now, aren’t they?” 

Oikawa contemplated that. Sometimes Iwaizumi was a lot smarter than he let on. “I feel like this should be world 1. It would be a good world one. But like, in other worlds, there could be another version of us doing this, but maybe in the summer? Maybe in jackets instead of tee-shirts? Maybe playing volleyball?”

“I guess so. Supposedly.”

“Let’s play volleyball tomorrow,” Oikawa declared into the cold air.

“Sure, Trashykawa.”

\---

“You’re overworking yourself! Coach warned you about that just yesterday!” Iwaizumi yelled at Oikawa. Hours past the end of team practice, Oikawa serving relentlessly. In addition to the coach warning him, Oikawa’s girlfriend had dumped him yesterday, claiming he was, “more in love with the second gym than her.” Probably true. 

Oikawa ignored him, throwing the ball for a jump serve. Iwaizumi kicked him in the back. 

“It’s all for nothing if you get injured again, moron,” Iwaizumi pulled Oikawa away from the net by his shirt, pushing the cart at the same time. “You’re done. Stretch now.”

Iwaizumi knew Oikawa was suffering. Kageyama watching his every move and improving rapidly made Oikawa lose his composure. He was benched during an important practice game, after numerous mishaps. But Iwaizumi knew that wouldn't help. Oikawa just thought he wasn’t good enough, that Tobio was surpassing him, that he was weak. Stupid stuff.

Shiratorizawa Middle School. Kitagawa had never won a single set with them. And their left-handed ace, Ushijima, was piling on the pressure for Oikawa and Iwaizumi. Iwaizumi was determined to win their last tournament of middle school.

Iwaizumi got everything together the next day as usual, and, annoyed, went to grab Oikawa from the gym. Why did Oikawa think everything rode on his shoulders? He was running himself into the ground again.

“Oikawa-san.” Kageyama went up to the setter. Iwaizumi, who had just arrived, had a bad feeling. “Please teach me how to serve.”

The air thickened rapidly as Iwaizumi burst forwards, sensing the tension in Oikawa’s stance. Oikawa’s clenched fist met Iwaizumi's outstretched hand instead of Kageyama’s face. Iwaizumi shoved him back. 

“Get a grip, you moron!” He must’ve been under more pressure than Iwaizumi thought. Oikawa was stunned. 

“I’m sorry,” he apologized automatically to Kageyama. Oikawa’s eyes were clocked out.

“Kageyama, I’m sorry, but we’re done for the day.” Iwaizumi turned to the surprised, but still curious first year. 

“Okay.” Kageyama left. 

Oikawa still looked stunned. By himself and the absurdity of the situation. Iwaizumi guessed he was going to have to spell it out.

“We swapped you out today to give you the chance to cool your head,” Iwaizumi explained aggressively. “Give yourself some credit!”

Oikawa blanched. “How can I possibly give myself credit if I’m not good enough to beat Shiratorizawa?” Iwaizumi knew Oikawa was exhausted and defeatist, something hyper in his eyes but he was also stupid. 

“I want to win and get to Nationals! To win, I have to work harder!” _I_ _ have to. I want. I’m not good. _

Iwaizumi snapped. “It’s all “me, me, me.” Just shut up!” He slammed his head forward, crashing into Oikawa’s face. A crack resonated in the gym as Oikawa went down with a bloody nose.

“Do you think you’re playing all by yourself?” Iwaizumi shouted at his best friend, fingers hooking onto Oikawa’s collar and pulling them eye to eye. “That’s not even funny, you moron!

Iwaizumi grabbed Oikawa by the front of his shirt, shaking him roughly. He needed to pound this into Oikawa’s thick skull. 

“If you believe that your performance equals team performance, I’ll punch you again! No one in our team can take on Ushijima one-on-one! But there are six people on a volleyball court!”

Oikawa’s eyes widened.  _ God, _ Iwaizumi thought,  _ he was so stupid. _

“I don’t care if we’re up against a genius first year or Ushijima! The team with the best six players is obviously the best, you moron!”

Iwaizumi paused, letting the words hover in the air.

“The team with the best six players is the best?” Oikawa repeated. He laughed without humour. As if he'd been told something painfully obvious. Back to the normal, annoying and stupid Oikawa. Iwaizumi’s best friend Oikawa. 

“I’m sorry. Did I headbutt you too hard?” Iwaizumi let go. Oikawa stood up, swaying, something a little different. Grinning.

“It’s like, I can’t even describe this,” Oikawa said, voice shining and nose bloody. “I suddenly feel invincible.”

Once Oikawa got back on the court, Iwaizumi noticed the change in his playing style. Calmer. Steady. Before games, he took more time to check in with each spiker, their health conditions, how they were feeling. Pushing players to unconsciously nurture what they were good at. Iwaizumi felt his tosses become more accurate, more meaningful, each being analyzed and readjusted again.

And he had a weird mental state, a headspace, he went into when they were playing sometimes, something Iwaizumi called the “volleyball voodoo” state. But it worked. The team improved along with him.

Kitagawa finally won a set against the formidable Shiratorizawa Middle School. However, they placed second in the tournament, after losing the game. Oikawa earned the best setter in the prefecture award, but Iwaizumi knew he wasn’t satisfied. 

But that was okay. Iwaizumi wasn’t either. They vowed, in high school, to take down Shiratorizawa. To humiliate them for good and move to a higher stage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the superhero schools might or might not be UA
> 
> go drink some water y'allll
> 
> also 27 chapters is purely a guess alright? i've split up things roughly but not perfectly
> 
> i'll get this out of the way. i began writing this story months ago at the beginning of quaratine. after i read in another life by littleluxray in august or so i realized there are similar aspects like talk about different worlds, similar to the different lives, but didn't mean to copy. please note this!
> 
> and even though it's not for this fandom happpppyyyy birthday mafuyu from given! (it's still feb 28 for me) and akutagawa from bsd for march 1st!
> 
> i love you guys


	3. iii - "i knew there was a reason you were my favourite, iwa-chan."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iwaizumi’s eyes dropped to where Oikawa’s knee was outlined in athletic tape under his track pants. “Sorry—are you good?”
> 
> “No thanks to you.”
> 
> “Just don’t die.” 
> 
> “Honestly.” Mattsun, who paused mussing Makki’s strawberry blonde hair, snorted. “I don’t see the downfall with that.”
> 
> Iwaizumi grinned, pretending to consider it. 
> 
> “We’d have to pay for our own ramen then,” Makki said.
> 
> “That’s only a problem for your broke ass,” Mattsun scoffed. 
> 
> “When I’m rich, you’ll be eating your words.”
> 
> “We’ll be waiting a long time then,” Iwaizumi tipped casually. 
> 
> “Possibly forever,” Oikawa said. “Get comfortable guys.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello again ヾ(＾∇＾)
> 
> scales of intensity: 
> 
> angst: 2/10  
> fluff: 6/10  
> lemon: 1/10
> 
> tw: light light violence and mention of death
> 
> happy reading!

_Age: 17_

“But Tooru, it just opened and I want to go with you.” Iwaizumi watched Oikawa’s girlfriend bother him on the side of practice. Emiko.

Oikawa scratched the back of his head, a water bottle tucked under his arm. “I’m sorry, I was planning on practicing a little more today.”

“You’re always staying late,” the girl pointed out.

“Emmie-chan, you know I stay to keep up with the team. It’d be rude of me not to when everyone else is, right?” Oikawa said gently. 

And that was his cue. “Shittykawa!” Iwaizumi crossed the loud gym to the couple. The volleyball team was warming up, shouts of tosses and bumps or filling up water bottles. Emiko stiffened at the ace coming over. “We’re starting drills.” 

Oikawa looked empathetically at Emiko, who sighed. She was on Seijoh’s swim team, and out of all Oikawa’s past girlfriends, probably understood his dedication to sports the most. 

“I’m sorry. Next Monday, I promise.” Oikawa smiled apologetically at Emiko. The fine-tuned, partially artificial and partially empathetic or pitying smile Oikawa had perfected as a kid and never took off. 

“Okay, Tooru.” She leaned forwards and kissed him on the cheek, half-annoyed and half-relenting before turning to leave the gym.

“It’s bad enough you injured your ankle, Shittykawa. Don’t waste time,” Iwaizumi said to a deflating Oikawa. 

“I’m not wasting time,” he whined, and realized the team was waiting for him. Walking towards the center court, he smiled at them grandly. “Sorry about that everyone. Let’s get to work, shall we?”

Iwaizumi ran up for a quick set B in the three on three. Sweat dampened his back, adrenaline sharpening his sense to register his arm extending out. Oikawa’s tosses had been a little high today—the injury messed with his trajectory—so Iwaizumi threw himself into the jump.

“Iwa-chan!” The volleyball arched a little to the right of him. Iwaizumi adjusted, nerves tingling as he blasted through the one person block, hitting a line shot.

“Nice one.” Oikawa smiled. He was wearing a brace, most of his weight on his undamaged leg. “Sorry for that toss, it was a little off.”

“Don’t mind.” Iwaizumi waved it off.

“Iwa-channnnnnn.” Oikawa swung an arm around the sweaty ace. Iwaizumi shoved his arm off, sticking his hands in his pockets. The gym was mostly cleared out, a few new first and second years rolling up the last net from their extra practice. 

“What.”

“Let’s go get popsicles.” 

“It’s cold outside,” Iwaizumi said. April was still cold in Miyagi.

“Please. For me.” Oikawa gave him a smile. A less fake smile than he gave Emiko, but not entirely real. 

“Iwa-chan, you’re the one who cut my practice short, so you have to compromise with me,” Oikawa said when Iwaizumi ignored him.

“It’s your fault you injured your ankle.” Iwaizumi had only let Oikawa practice for a little longer because the manic had wrecked his ankle recklessly playing soccer in the mud with his younger sister, Hana.

“But Iwa-chan, I didn’t mean to sprain my ankle, it was an accident—”

“Fine.” Iwaizumi didn’t want to hear the whiny tangent Oikawa was about to go on. He reviewed the gym, the first years straggling out. Nets and volleyballs were away, floors had been swept, lights off and the club storage room was locked. It felt weird doing this instead of their old third years, despite holding the title of captains.

“Kunimi’s a strategic player. He conserves his energy for the final stretch of a game,” Oikawa observed to himself. Iwaizumi recalled Kunimi, one of the new players. He seemed like a slacker. 

“Well, we aren’t playing official games yet.” The Interhigh Prelims were only a little more than a month away. Iwaizumi didn’t want to deal with any slackers. 

“He has to cover it up better though. People will see through him being a decoy if he doesn’t,” Oikawa continued mostly to himself. “I wonder if it’s also a psychological thing. Can’t fail if you don’t try. Then again, he has the skill to do what he wants.”

Iwaizumi nodded. Oikawa was always analyzing, thinking about the court off the court. 

“Are you gonna be ready for the exhibition game with Karasuno?” Iwaizumi glanced at Oikawa’s ankle as he locked the gym. They were playing the fallen crows next Tuesday in a practice match. 

“Tobio-chan’s gonna be there, right? I think I’ll be ready.” Oikawa grinned. They had requested Kageyama as the setter for the entire game as a condition of playing.

“Tch.” Iwaizumi said, “Don’t push it.”

“Maybe I’ll only show up only at the end to crush him. Give him hope and then throw it in his face!” Oikawa smiled grandly, mischievously amused.

“You’re such a crappy guy.” Iwaizumi hit him in the back. Oikawa still wouldn’t let Kageyama off the hook, being the immature petty guy he was. 

“Tobio-chan’s an even crappier guy to his teammates so I don’t feel bad.” Oikawa stuck his hands in his pockets, huffing. “I wonder if he’s still being a king.”

“He’s never been good with teams.” Iwaizumi winced at the memory of Kageyama in third year. He’d only vaguely heard about it, but having your team reject you was bound to be either a harsh wake up call or crushing. Volleyball was a team sport, after all.

“Guess we’ll find out on Tuesday,” Oikawa figured. 

“How is it?” Iwaizumi gestured to the brace. Oikawa had refrained from serves today in lieu of drill and game tosses. He had this sprain on top of developing Jumper’s Knee. He was falling apart left and right.

“It’s fine.” Oikawa flexed it experimentally. He winced a little. 

“I will actually kill you if you hurt it anymore.”

“Don’t be so aggressive when you say nice things, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa replied airily. “It takes away the effect.”

“Whatever. Just don’t serve until you know it’s completely better.” Iwaizumi and Oikawa turned into the corner store, bells ringing as they opened the door. Cold popsicles pricked his skin as Iwaizumi picked them from the freezer. Two chocolate. He paid, handing one to Oikawa.

“Aw, thank you Iwa-chan.” Oikawa smiled, a real indulgent smile this time, and ripped into the popsicle wrapping.

“You can buy them next time.” Iwaizumi ignored the cold weather. Oikawa nodded. Despite what he said earlier, popsicles were a year-round food. 

Iwaizumi heard Oikawa opening his window before he saw him. 9:46. They had changed the time to 9:45 after third year of junior high, to accommodate their schedules.

“Iwa-chan, your king has arrived!” Oikawa said with a flourish, jumping through the window.

“Peasant, I’m studying.” Iwaizumi didn’t look up from his textbooks. Calculus. “Go complete the chores. Tend to the farmland.”

“Bleh.” Oikawa walked around Iwaizumi’s room, picking up random things and setting them back down. Humming an American pop song and disrupting the peace. 

“Did you climb onto the garage? Don’t do shit like that with your ankle busted.” 

“I would never.”

“Liar.” 

“You’re being awfully nice today Iwa-chan, caring about me and my ankle.” Oikawa picked up some university brochures.

“I care about the team and the exhibition game.” 

“Mhmm.” Oikawa was sarcastic. “Wanna hear this conspiracy from the U.S? They actually have the craziest ideas. There’s this one about a multiverse...”

Iwaizumi registered Oikawa’s tangent of theories dully, trying to focus on his formulas, not the second Irish prince from the 1600s who was thought to create a machine that duplicated this and that and had a mysterious death and then some.

“Where’s the captain?” Iwaizumi called out, annoyed. They’d just wrapped up the exhibition game with Karasuno, losing spectacularly. Well, only by a few points. But Seijoh was supposed to be top four of the prefecture, a fallen school wasn’t supposed to beat them. Then again, the weird freak attack was a superhuman variable.

“Outside. Probably with his fans,” Matsukawa Issei—a third year middle blocker—said loosely. 

Oikawa was definitely going after Kageyama. Iwaizumi groaned, shoving open the school doors to find Oikawa. He jogged around the school, finally spotting the black crow uniforms and one haughty setter. Just then Oikawa seemed to be done with whatever he was saying and started strutting like a runway model back to the school. He needed a good smack. The crows looked intimidated. Maybe two good smacks. 

“Shittykawa!” 

Oikawa turned around, caught red-handed.

“Stop terrorizing other schools or I’ll punch you.” Iwaizumi smacked him. 

“The attack.” Oikawa’s mind was still focussed on volleyball. The weird, crazy temp attack. “That shouldn’t be possible. Even if Tobio-chan’s tosses are that good, the Shrimpy spiker has no concept of technique or timing. He just swings.” Oikawa laughed mirthlessly. “Guess that’s what you get when two talented idiots meet each other. It cancels out the absurdity or something.”

Iwaizumi stayed silent. The fact that someone could keep up with Kageyama’s tosses was alarming enough. Knowing it was a tiny blocker with practically no skill and no strategy, he wasn’t sure what to make of that. 

But he knew Oikawa did. “You’re not practicing tonight. You’re going to fucking sleep.” Iwaizumi could see Oikawa’s protests bubbling before he finished the sentence. His serves today in the game were solid, not perfect, but solid, and Iwaizumi knew that had probably been somewhat of a strain. Oikawa had said he was okay to go against Kageyama and Karasuno, not that he was healed.

Iwaizumi stared him down.

Oikawa relented, and stuck his tongue out. “You’re the worst, Iwa-chan.” 

“I know, Trashykawa.”

“I hate you.”

“I know.”

“Bleh.”

The month leading up to the Interhigh Prelims after the exhibition game was intense. Oikawa insisted on practicing longer and longer every day, only stopping when Iwaizumi snapped at him or he was shut down by the janitors. 

As a team, Seijoh progressed well. Shinji Watari, their libero, perfected setting to everyone on the team while jumping and improved his blocked ball retrieval. Akira Kunimi learned how to use his energy advantageously at the end of games, and Yuutarou Kindaichi’s blocking instincts were getting stronger. Almost scary accurate. Iwaizumi, Takahiro Hanamaki and Matsukawa were focussing on holding together strong defence so the ball didn’t drop, and their quick attacks. They’d have to fight fire with fire against Karasuno. 

“Trashykawa, hurry the hell up.” Practice had just wrapped up and as usual, his highness was taking a long time per usual. Only a week was left until the Interhigh Prelims; Iwaizumi and Oikawa had already practiced for two extra hours. After his ankle had healed, Oikawa had become a volleyball menace, practically living in the gym.

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” Iwaizumi shoved his hands in his pockets, watching Oikawa stuff on his shoes. 

“Stop walking so fast, Iwa-chan.” 

“You’re just Slowkawa.”

“Did you just smash my name and an insulting sentence together?" 

“Yep.”

“You’re so rude.” Oikawa and Iwaizumi were at the bottom of the stairs when Matsukawa Issei and Hanamaki Takahiro—dubbed Mattsun and Makki by Oikawa—the other third years appeared.

“Stop arguing like an old couple. It’s getting annoying.” Makki, an on the charming side of idiot wing spiker, said blandly. Mattsun laughed, both of them coming to join Oikawa and Iwaizumi. The four of them turned onto their traditional route home.

“Right, like you can talk about that.” Iwaizumi shot back. Dating for two years, the two were quiet about their relationship but loud about each other.

“Fine. Hiro, we’re breaking up.” Mattsun shoved him endearingly, a lazy smile slung on his face.

“Finally, you single ass slug.” They were so comfortable in their relationship that it was like this. From what Iwaizumi knew, it had been rough in their first year but now they acted like they were each other's endgame. 

“Now, dearest lovebirds, stop arguing like an old couple,” Mattsun called to them. 

“Yeah, babe, stop arguing with me.” Oikawa clung to Iwaizumi’s shoulder. 

“Oikawa, you have a girlfriend. A very nice girlfriend.”Just yesterday Iwaizumi had to scare Emiko away again from practice.

“You’re no fun.” Oikawa shouldered his bag. “Emmie-chan doesn’t mind.”

“Emmie-chan doesn't mind,” Mattsun mimicked Oikawa, speaking in a high voice. “Oh, and are we back together yet, Hiro?” he added nonchalantly.

“Sure, and shut up.” 

“Yeah.” Oikawa turned around pretentiously. “Hush, Mattsun.”

Makki sighed as Iwaizumi grabbed Oikawa’s bag and roughly propelled him forwards. “Walk.”

Oikawa dramatically stumbled. “Ow, Iwa-chan.” He shot Iwaizumi a salty look before actually flinching, a hand flying reflexively to his knee.

Iwaizumi’s eyes dropped to where Oikawa’s knee was outlined in athletic tape under his track pants. “Sorry—are you good?”

“No thanks to you.”

“Just don’t die.” 

“Honestly.” Mattsun, who paused mussing Makki’s strawberry blonde hair, snorted. “I don’t see the downfall with that.”

Iwaizumi grinned, pretending to consider it. 

“We’d have to pay for our own ramen then,” Makki said.

“That’s only a problem for your broke ass,” Mattsun scoffed. 

“When I’m rich, you’ll be eating your words.”

“We’ll be waiting a long time then,” Iwaizumi tipped casually. 

“Possibly forever,” Oikawa said. “Get comfortable guys.” 

Makki huffed.

“Okay, I agree Hiro’s stupider than a tree, but free ramen is always better,” Mattsun intervened. 

“Don’t be mean to the tree,” Oikawa said, offended on the hypothetical tree’s part as Makki muttered, “I thought I was broke, not stupid.”

“Both.” Iwaizumi and Mattsun grinned at the same time. 

“And is free ramen—” Iwaizumi gestured towards Oikawa, in all his shitty glory. “—worth this?”

“Excuse—" Oikawa spazzed in astonishment. “Of course it is.”

“This including a one-of-a-kind deal with the demanding complaints and attitude?” Iwaizumi continued. Oikawa flinched like an arrow had pierced his side. 

“And annoying fangirls?” Mattsun added another arrow. He had the biggest problem with Oikawa’s fangirls.

“Constantly useless chatter?” Makki’s arrow. 

“You’re all just jealous.” Oikawa glared at all of them. 

“Of what? Your non-existent sparkling personality?” Mattsun grinned. 

“Oh like you can talk.” Makki jostled Mattsun. “Mr. The only personality trait I have is being tall, being worse than Makki and attracted to every single Avengers character cough cough Captain America cough.”

“Okay, I’m just saying.” Mattsun turned extremely serious. “Iwaizumi is totally Thor or something because of his arms.” Iwaizumi felt a hand run down his bicep at this, Oikawa laughing like the cheshire cat at the same time.

“Oh duh,” Makki brushed past the obvious. “And you’re Cap because of your strict no-fun policy.”

“Don’t insult the love of my life,” Mattsun defended his fictional husband. 

“And his ass,” Makki continued. Mattsun grinned in appreciation.

“Course you’d know that, Makki,” Oikawa jumped in.

“The little fly hanging onto Iwaizumi could be that speck of dust Iron Man brushes off in that one scene,” Makki deadpanned. “You know what I’m talking about?”

“Yeah,” Mattsun said. “You could be Rocket. Same annoying existence.” He gave Makki a once over. “And you look like him.”

“Why thank you.” Makki used his hands to bow slightly, ignoring the insult. “In addition to dust, perhaps Oikawa—"

“Iron man?” Oikawa suggested hopefully. 

“You’re also broke and also dumb like Hiro, so no,” Mattsun shot that down, ignoring the “HEY!” from Makki. 

“Jealousy isn’t a good colour on you, Mattsun,” Oikawa cooed. 

“We’ve established there isn’t anything to be jealous of.” Iwaizumi watched Oikawa shoot him a pout.

“I guess you could maybe pass for Iron Man for his melodramatic attitude and expensive taste,” Makki offered drily. 

“I suppose you’ll say his charm and wit next,” Iwaizumi said just as drily. 

“I knew there was a reason you were my favourite, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa grinned, scuffing Iwaizumi’s hair in the way he knew Iwaizumi hated it because of their height difference.

“Sorry who?” Mattsun asked. “Don’t know any charming or witty Oikawa’s here.” 

“Yeah, the only one here is a jackass.” Makki shrugged. 

“Makki, you’re my new favourite.” Oikawa threw him a winning smile over his shoulder. 

“Ugh.” Makki sighed, “Why is it a bully Makki day today?” 

“Actually, I think there’s one good Oikawa,” Mattusn redirected. “Kiyoshi Oikawa I think?”

“Shut up, shut up.” Oikawa groaned at the mention of his older brother. “I hate you all.”

“Vice-captain, I have an idea to run by you,” Oikawa started about seven seconds later. Iwaizumi nodded. “Do you think we should try playing against some veteran players? Like a college team or ask a recreational team for a practice game? I know Coach doesn’t have ties like the Fukurodani training group, but it’d be really beneficial if we could go against experienced opponents.”

Oikawa had turned down the idea of recruiting a manager at the beginning of the school year, saying the team could take care of everything. “We knew how to play against each other, but we need new plays we need to know how to counter, new scenarios we can’t think up, opponents that have what we don’t.” 

Despite Seijoh’s intense training regimes, other teams had advantages like Kageyama and Hinata’s toss, extreme blocking, height that they didn’t and would have to face.

“Let’s find some more plays tonight.” Iwaizumi and Oikawa watched college or Olympic games to pick out strategies and plays for the team every week; to adapt them and read and spin to their advantage until it was second nature on the court. 

They watched old Olympic videos after digging around to find ones they hadn’t before, paying attention to the Japanese team. Spirit, and because they used speed to their advantage instead of height.

“Stop.” Oikawa hit the pause button for him, hunched on Iwaizumi’s bed over his laptop. Iwaizumi squinted at the bright screen, a stark contrast against the rest of the room, in concentration. “I think we should try that.” 

Iwaizumi sketched the play in their notebook for volleyball; Oikawa resting with his head on Iwaizumi’s shoulder. They could pull it off. “It would work best in the rotation with Kunimi-kun in the back left. Kindaichi-kun and I would fake a quick and in the end Makki would get the pipe.” 

Oikawa nodded. “Depends on the tempo, of course. Kindaichi-kun might be able to score if it’s first or second.” Iwaizumi roughly noted that down. 

In total, Oikawa and Iwaizumi had decided on only three plays since the Tournament was soon. Seijoh needed to focus on polishing up their flaws as a whole, but they were on a good track. Steadily improving and growing stronger. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i accidently posted a story that i was trying to delete from drafts a few days ago - i'm so sorry for any confusion
> 
> props to my sister for betaing even if her ultimate motive was to research ningguang and her weapons
> 
> [carrd!](https://deltatrevino.carrd.co/)
> 
> ily guys


End file.
